


Come Into My Parlor...

by AmethystLuna, fractalanatomy



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: (Eldritch entity possession rather?), Additional Warnings Apply, Arachnophobia, Basiphobia (later chapter), Blood, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Demonic Possession, Gen, Gore, Gratuitous Swearing, Mutilation, Psychological Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystLuna/pseuds/AmethystLuna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalanatomy/pseuds/fractalanatomy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blood altar calls an uninvited guest to Parv’s castle. One would think they might get along because of a similar interest in blood but first things don’t go in Parv’s favor, and then the tables are turned on Lalnable. They both learn that magic shouldn’t be trifled with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [what's yours is mine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237097) by [cadaeic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadaeic/pseuds/cadaeic). 



> This is the fic formatted version of an old RP thread with FractalAnatomy, with some story flow editing by me. This is Lalnable as portrayed by them, and I give all credit for his sections to them. | Kerosene originally created by cadaeic and used with her blessing. References also made to Cad’s fanfic What’s Yours Is Mine | Liberties have been taken with the execution of blood magic. | Background music: Headstrong by Trapt; Criminal by Disturbed.

**Come Into My Parlor**

…Said The Spider to The Fly.

But who was the fly, and who the spider, in the grand scheme of things?

Parv didn’t care for the analogy of being a spider – while they could be scary enough, and webs were kind of fun, spiders also had their limits. Crawling around on eight legs, needing a wall or other surface just to scale higher. No, he wanted to be able to fly freely and not be restricted to trapping meals in threads that could be easily broken, if the prey was strong enough. 

But then, there were always stronger strands that could be woven. That’s what the blood rituals beneath his altar were, with the tensile strength of stone, the runes that were carved into each block pulsing with power like a heartbeat. Their magic washed over the mobs trapped below the mystical pattern of the Well of Suffering, draining their life away and transferring their blood to fill the basin of the altar. Since replacing the floor with cursed earth that constantly spawned evil mobs, the Ritual of Regeneration that had once kept imprisoned coven witches from the edge of death seemed to have little use except for bumping one’s head on, if one bothered to enter the lower chamber.

The witches had finally met their bloody end, of course. It wasn’t like he would simply let them go when they could still be useful one _last_ time.

He did, however, miss the good old-fashioned stabbing of a villager over the altar. True, that was a time consuming way of doing things, but it was so _satisfying_ at the same time. He considered his sacrificial dagger, stashed away in the computer item storage, and wondered if maybe it was time to leave his bound sword at home and take the dagger out for some _hunting_ for the afternoon.

Somewhere, possibly from the shadows behind him or as if from someone looking over his shoulder, came an encouragement to do this hunting _. Collect the blood the bones the dust, make something powerful from the magic just as the heart that sits within your chest was made_.

He wasn’t fully aware of the voice, more feeling the subliminal impression of it. He didn’t think about the heart business often these days. That seemed like something from ages ago, especially when he hadn’t been around Strife for a few weeks and didn’t have that occasional disconnected sensation of feeling his original heart beating inside Will. God, wasn’t _that_ a disconcerting side effect, but he hadn’t mentioned it yet. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk about it at all so he could avoid everything else that happened during the incident.

The physical exchange of hearts had occurred thanks to the blood mage’s careless attempt to emulate the way Strife had removed the organ to halt Parv’s ridiculous whining over the accidental loss of a resummonable fire demon and the purposeful discarding of a bound pickaxe. Being rid of his emotions meant nothing would hold Parvis back from accomplishing goals, so why not remove it again when Strife was away and not there to stop him? Maybe Parv shouldn’t have messaged him about doing so. He couldn’t remember why he had even thought to send the texts about it. And then Strife had shown up, had panicked about Parv being so seemingly empty that he yanked out his own heart and shoved it into Parv, because _he_ could operate just fine without one (yeah, if you called doubling over wheezing _fine_ ) and then Parv, back to having emotions, felt all upset and got his own heart back out from where he’d stashed it and ended up giving it to Strife—

Parv had figured blood magic was full of shenanigans at that point. He hadn’t known that Strife’s heart came with another price, the reason the trade could be made at all and why pesky things like blood type compatibility and organ rejection weren’t a factor. Strife’s heart wasn’t normal, by any means, because Will hadn’t been born with it, it had been made by a much older entity that had decided to investigate being mortal and Strife had been created to house the heart.

But all those were facts that Parvis hadn’t been aware of at the time and had only learned  some of it through a series of misfortunate events, which he also preferred not to dwell on too long. Those were in the past and he still had plenty of goals he wanted to accomplish.

Parv made his way down the stone stairs, past the randomly placed furnaces, and stepped under the raised platform with its jumble of diamond chests and pipes connecting through a hole in the platform to the ME computer below. He found the dagger and took it out, moving out from under the platform to hold it up in the light coming from the “skylight” above the pit where he had once had a gaggle of villagers trapped, awaiting sacrifice. He could always try filling the pit again, too, and just have a handful of villagers around for when this same mood struck him. He smiled at the thought.

He hopped up the steps of the pyramidal altar to inspect the basin in the main altar stone, so full with red blood. He checked the total life points with a divination sigil. Plenty there to sustain a trip to the mainland and find some _volunteers_.  He returned to the computer to pocket a few other supplies, humming as he did so.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the world, the altar was calling to another man who was bound to a bloodied web. He had seen it in his head, a byproduct of the magic – the so-called “admin privileges” – granting him the ability to bend reality and slip free of the surly bonds of earth: runes of power, carved in stone. The howling of creatures trapped and doomed, one heartbeat pounding to drown out their cries. A basin filled to the brim with delicious, life-giving blood. They called to him, voices without sound, beckoning him in close to taste of their wealth, to share in their radiating power. Lalnable simply had to heed their call; there was no other option.

[ /tp Lalnable_Hector blood_altar_pure ]

The blonde man’s feet touched down upon cobblestone as he materialized in the dark, but he could not take the time to observe and gain his bearings as per usual; no, his entire focus from the instant of his appearance was on the altar stone before him. A sickly crimson glow was cast upon him and perfectly matched the red of his eyes; like a moth to a flame, he reverently climbed the steps up to the basin, ignoring the faint, ethereal tendrils caressing him and draining him of his immortal power. He barely even noticed this loss, still being called forward and dutifully obeying.

Reaching the filled basin, Lalnable held his hand over the pool of blood, so still and smooth and reflective like a mirror. It was beautiful, really, and even though he salivated at the feast before him, he hesitated, hand hovering, nearly unwilling to disturb it.

Nearly.

After a moment’s pause, the cannibal dove his hand into the blood and held a fistful above his head, pouring the salty fluid over himself in a deviant baptism and letting the streams of crimson pour down the sides of his face and over his lips. Licking it off greedily, his next fistful went straight to his tongue and he drank, completely absorbed in his own personal ritual.

Parv thought he heard a sound akin to an Enderman teleporting in and whirled around, ready to berate the creature for whatever  piece of the floor it might try to make off with. He stopped and stared when he saw a white lab coat on a tall, stocky frame instead of a towering, shadowy beanpole. Well. This was something that didn’t happen every day. Suddenly, Lalna, in his base, and apparently incredibly focused on the blood altar. For a split second the memory of a warning about _the Magic Police_ went through his head and he pulled out the dagger, shifting it from hand to hand as he waited for the larger man to turn and try some stupid spell or something. Not that he was really afraid. He was Parvis, the Great Blood Mage! He wasn’t afraid of any Magic Police, or Lalna in general, or—

And then things got weird as the intruder took an impromptu blood shower then _drank_ more of the blood.

“Okay, I’m kind of metal, but this is a little _too_ metal for even me. What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Parv was both baffled and angry – he needed that blood for spells! He stomped up the stairs and made a grab for Lalna’s arm with his free hand – keeping the dagger out of sight with the other, for the moment. If Lalna had lost his mind Parv wanted to be sure he had a weapon close by. “You know, there are other perfectly good sources of blood out there, you don’t need to rob the blood network of the Mighty Blood Mage Parvis. I’ve got spells to cast and a world to plunge into chaos. This is a little detrimental to that.”

It was only then that he noticed the red color of the larger man’s eyes, and his head tilted slightly, a tiny feeling inside saying that something was amiss here.

Lalnable could feel a surge of raw power as a tingle spreading from his gut to his limbs while he drank from the basin. It was intoxicating, and the rest of the world may as well have been void, for all he cared— at least until angry footsteps clomped up behind him and a grabby hand pulled him from his reverie, a voice suddenly ringing loud and clear in his ears. The blonde man whipped around as his arm was taken from the basin, and he paused for a moment, unable to identify this stranger who had so rudely interrupted his feast, keeping their eyes locked in a precarious gaze. Sensing confusion, Lalnable took the opportunity to act upon his own rage and his other arm shot up from his side to grab at the darker man’s throat, his teeth bared.

"Blood mage," he said with distaste, lifting Parvis ever so slightly off the floor. "Why did you call me here? What  _is_  this place?”

If there was anything that could unsettle and anger the cannibal, it was magic. Magic seemed to fly in the face of all that he knew, all of the science and the logic ruling his analytical mind; it was complex, unruly, unable to be dissected with surgical instruments. He both hated it and craved its power…and if one little blood mage was his key through the door, then so be it.

“Hey! Let go! Wow, you’re _rude._ ” Parv was too startled by the physical assult to react, having been expecting a blast of magic frost or something. He did have the presence of mind to continue hiding the dagger, and as he pried at the other man’s fingers with his free hand, he slipped the dagger into his pocket space with the other. He reached for the floor on tiptoe, and gestured with his now empty hand as he spoke. 

“Okay, I don’t _quite_ know what’s going on, but I take it you’re not with the Magic Police. And that you’re not Lalna at all. And that you must not be from around here if you don’t know that this is Castle Parv, my lovely home sweet home! Also, I didn’t call you or anyone else here, I mean, I could do by sending a message first but I’d expect people to knock at the door when they got here, not just pop right in down here and start slurping from the altar like it was a bowl of tomato soup.”

Said altar was steadily refilling after Lalnable’s theft of its contents.

“Could you please put me down? This isn’t very comfortable. Plus I could always set you up with your _own_ blood network, if that’s what you want. I could teach you! I’m the leader of the blood cult here, after all!” Parv gave a wide, disarming smile.  He had just about finished gesticulating the defensive version of the Interdiction Ritual during all his hand-waving but he needed to reach for his blood orb to touch off the spell. It wouldn't do much in the way of damage, but it would at least put some space between him and the intruder.

"So many words, with so little meaning," the blonde man said with a tilt of his head, letting Parvis back down and feeling far less threatened than before. He was well-tuned to physical cues, not magical, and as far as their sizes and strengths were concerned, Lalnable saw little to fear from the other man. His hand retracted from Parv’s throat and he wore a skeptical look while visually inspecting the blood mage for possible weaknesses, blood still dripping thickly down his face like war paint.

“I reside in a little glass cage deep in the heart of Yoglabs,” he said with a distinctly bitter tone, “I am certainly not  _Lalna,_ nor of the ‘Magic Police’. I try to _avoid_  magic, though lately it’s had its way of finding me…”

Feeling a pleasant gurgle from within his stomach, Lalnable’s attention was drawn back to the altar’s refilled basin. He flexed his shoulders and let his fingers twitch, now brimming with an anxious, predatory energy.

"Something’s called me here, to this place. Or perhaps I’ve been called to  _you,_ " he added, pausing to quickly dip his hand back into the basin and steal another messy drink. "I’m not one for lessons, though. Tell me,  _blood mage_ , what would happen if I ate your heart? Would I gain your power…or would I simply be having a nice, light snack?”

He grinned over at Parvis, teeth and lips stained a gory crimson.

Parv was unperturbed by the reddened grin and merely continued to smile back. He was used to people insulting his intelligence, after all, and the threat wasn’t as disturbing as it might have been to anyone else given the things Parv had witnessed. He edged around a bit so that the intruder was between him and the altar. “A glass cage deep in _Yoglabs..?”_ He seemed to have to think about it. “Not ringing any bells, sorry. But, as long as you aren’t with the Magic Police, I think we could get along! What with your… fondness… for blood and all.”

He watched as Lalnable went in for another drink. “Perhaps the altar called you. It can be very _enticing_ for people who enjoy chaos.” He then chuckled darkly. “But no, you won’t gain anything from _eating_ my heart, other than indigestion maybe.” He smiled oddly, then continued, “The power is in the altar and what you shape from it.”

Perhaps there was something to this blood magic, Lalnable considered while Parvis spoke; it certainly _was_ enticing and he could feel the power radiating from the altar. It could be a discipline worth investigating in the future. Assuming he was capable of leaving the blood for magical uses, and not simply drinking it, or bathing in it. Which was not exactly a given.

While the other man seemed to think over his words, Parv pulled out a blood orb with one hand and pointed it at Lalnable. The Interdiction Ritual was completed and an invisible force slammed into the bigger man, pushing him away from Parvis but with no room to actually go anywhere it pinned him backward against the altar, pressing his arms across the lip of the basin. 

“I think maybe the altar wanted you to donate to it.” Parv giggled again and took out the sacrificial dagger, gripping it tightly with a hungry glint of his own in his eyes. He jerked it upward then stabbed it down into one of Lalnable’s arms, shoving the blade outward and slicing through the fabric of his coat to make a path into the basin. Casually he remarked, “But if you _take_ from the altar you also have to _give_ to it.”

Lalnable’s train of thought was derailed as Parvis made his move, and when the kinetic wave slammed into him out of nowhere he let out a noise of surprise as he was pushed back and held down like a rag doll by seemingly thin air. When Parvis drew his knife Lalnable’s muscles struggled against the force, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the blood mage’s blade. He let out a hiss at the sharp pain of his arm being sliced open, but in an instant it was as though his magical chains were broken, his muscles finally cooperating to let him lunge at the darker man with a wild fury in his eyes.

"I’m not one for  _rules_  either,” he growled, grabbing at Parvis’ wrist to keep the dagger far out of reach and wrestling with his opponent against the basin for control.

  _Wha—The spell should have held longer—_ Parv thought in denial as he struggled against Lalnable’s hold on his wrist. _Shit, why did it—_

With his teeth bared, Lalnable made a move to twist Parvis’ arm behind his back at a painful angle and twirl him around, pushing him forward against the lip of the blood-filled bowl. The blonde man’s greater weight and strength tipped the odds in his favour.

 The bloodmage cried out as his arm was violently turned. He glared at Lalnable from the corner of his eyes, desperately trying to keep a hold on the dagger despite the numbing in his fingers. “That’s cheating,” he growled. He still had one hand free and since the dagger had already gotten a taste of the intruders’ blood, he was able to begin casting the Ritual of the Feathered Knife to pull more energy from Lalnable into the altar. He dropped the dagger midway to perhaps distract his assailant from the movement of his other hand.

Lalnable, unaware of the significance of the gesturing, focused on his own strategy and, grabbing Parvis by his short black hair, he forced the mage’s head straight down into the basin and beneath the liquid surface, trying to drown him in his own precious blood source.

 The spell died unfinished in the air when Parv’s arm flew wide as his face was plunged directly into the altar’s contents. He tried to shout in protest but ended up with a mouthful of blood for his efforts, bubbles shooting up around his submerged head. He had no choice but to swallow, and as the magic tickled at his throat on the way down he realized what had happened to his first spell – well, who had ever thought someone would _drink from the damned altar_ and disrupt a spell that way?

 …And would drinking directly from the altar boost power, as well? He really didn’t have much time to think about it. He still needed _air_ and his lungs were beginning to burn. He thrashed against Lalnable’s grip on his hair and arm as best as he could, ignoring the pain in his scalp, and gained just enough leverage for his nostrils to clear the surface. He inhaled quickly, snorting in just as much blood from where it poured down the side of his face as air, but it was just enough before his face was forced under again. Once more the flailing of his free hand was actually a casting, this time of the Aura of Expulsion and he feigned weakening to drop that hand to his pocket, touching the blood orb. He also swallowed down more blood, concentrating on that feeling of magic that went in with it. He almost gagged this time, however, and he began to feel light-headed.

Fortunately, the spell took hold and in a swirl of reddish particles he _disappeared_ from where Lalnable held him. The basin promptly emptied by two-thirds of its capacity. That spell wasn’t going to be repeated any time soon.

With the mage weakening beneath his grip, no doubt taking too much blood into his lungs and throat to struggle for much longer, Lalnable pushed Parvis’ head down as far into the basin as it would go to finish the job—

Then, there was nothing but shimmering air where his opponent had been, and Lalnable lurched forward, his hands becoming freshly drenched in the blood of the altar to steady himself. He splashed a tidal wave out from the depleted pool with a roar of frustration, splattering the nearby floor and pillars with crimson. Tricky, tricky mage…but at least a good deal of the liquid blood had disappeared in the blink of an eye, along with its master. The other man always made odd hand gestures while he spoke, seemingly purposeful, as well. Perhaps these were the keys…

The same particles danced in the air a little over two meters away from the base of the altar and Parvis reappeared, gasping and coughing, hastily wiping at his eyes to clear his vision. He shook his head, flinging drops of blood around. He steadied himself and glared through the mask of red smears left on his face. “You don’t play very fair.” He coughed again, now wiping at a new trickle of blood that appeared from his mouth. “I don’t think we’ll be friends after all.” He smiled, matching Lalnable’s reddish grin from earlier. “Too bad. I even thought you had some potential there, for a minute. You did a very naughty thing, crossing me like that.” He didn’t feel as confident as he tried to sound. His head was still reeling while he tried to remember which offensive spell would be best to use next. He could always continue to stall, maybe. “Although, I can be merciful. It isn’t too late to have a talk instead. Settle our differences liked civilized gentlemen and discuss some common ground, perhaps?”

Whipping around to face his opponent once more, Lalnable sucked his fingers clean then listened to Parv’s condescending words with his teeth bared, storming down the steps of the altar with renewed purpose.

"I play to win," he growled, "and I’ve grown tired of your talking. I want your head on a spike and your guts on a platter, blood mage!"

Parv considered banter to be an important part of his balanced diet.

He didn’t like it when the other party didn’t engage in the tradition. He’d had better banter than this with zombies, and all they did was groan and try to eat his brains. “My, what lovely pictures you paint. Well, I still want your blood for my altar. Why don’t we work out a deal? I’ll bleed you out, then, if you can--”

The larger man pulled out a longer-bladed medical lancet from his deep coat pocket and, holding it downward like a dagger ready to stab, he pounced upon Parvis once he was within a few feet. Clawing and grasping with fury, Lalnable did all he could to grab one of Parv’s forearms, needing to hold it steady if he was going to have a good chance of cutting those fucking spell-casting hands off.

Parv attempted to dance out of the way of the sudden lunge but tripped in his dizzied state. He cursed and fell backward, although he managed to bend one leg between himself and Lalnable as the intruder fell on top of him. This mostly served to add extra awkward pressure to Parv's middle and forced both air from his lungs and blood up from his stomach, which spewed out and flowed down his front. He nearly choked on it. Maybe he shouldn’t  have had that second draught from the altar…

He blearily tried to push Lalnable back with his leg before attempting to bat the scalpel away. He couldn’t focus enough to think of a spell to use that would still work with what little blood was left in the altar. He grasped at his pocket and came up with his Air Sigil. He activated it just as Lalnable got a grip on his other arm, sending both of them skittering across the floor, Parv still backward so he didn’t know where he was going. He had a feeling he was going to hit a wall before he could loosen the intruder’s hold.

The sudden motion brought his arm into Lalnable’s range. The blade pierced his skin.

Parvis yelled in frustration and dropped the Air Sigil, halting their movement just shy of the wall – luckily for Parv’s skull. Of course, that meant he was trapped without enough LP for another teleport spell.

So, really, it wasn’t very lucky at all.

The sudden skidding across the floor was rather disorienting, but Lalnable managed to keep his hold on the other man, ignoring the knee still against his gut in his frenzy. With Parvis’ yelp and flinching from being cut, the blonde man finally saw his opportunity and, taking firm hold of his opponent’s forearm, drove his razor-sharp blade straight down into Parv’s wrist, rocking it back and forth in a sawing motion to cut through as much flesh as possible and disable him. Dark blood bubbled up from the wound like a hot spring, and once he wrenched his weapon free, his first instinct was to force his tongue down into the gore for a taste of this small victory.

Parv slipped into a form of shock as Lalnable worked to remove his hand, although he continued struggling to twist the rest of his body out from under the larger man. He had cut himself plenty of times to add to the blood altar, but not in a million years would it have ever been like this. He attempted to kick and try to break free before the blade could cut through any further, but there was no getting loose from Lalnable’s grip on his arm.

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_

His mind snapped a little more as the intruder took a _taste_ from the crippling wound. His stomach turned at the sensation of ruptured tendons and nerves being invaded and he howled incoherently.

The cannibal’s reaction to the expected taste of the bloodmage could have offered an epithet of his own It…wasn’t all that pleasant, actually. Lalnable’s tongue retreated and he gave Parvis an annoyed look while still wrestling him into submission, as if pissed the blood mage wasn’t even worth the effort.

"Magic’s rotted you, has it," he hissed, now clawing at Parvis’ other forearm to saw through that wrist as well. "Such a shame. I was looking forward to  _enjoying_ you.”

Pressing his face close to his opponent’s, Lalnable gave a few well-timed licks to Parvis’ chin and lips where blood from the altar had been forced out from the smaller man’s lungs and stomach. At least  _that_  blood wasn’t so…foul. There was no point in backing off now, though, the cannibal figured, not when he had made a new enemy; he may as well finish the job before calling it a day.

He still wanted the bloodmage’s precious tongue as a trophy, after all.

Parv’s attempts to escape dwindled as his other arm was caught and the mutilation was repeated. He could only manage a sickened whimper as Lalnable licked the blood from his mouth and chin, grimacing in between each stroke of the cannibal’s tongue and endeavoring to move his face out of range to no avail.

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_

Was he saying that out loud or was it just in his head? Was he getting anywhere with his attempts to escape, or was he only imagining that he was even still moving?

“What the fuck what the fuck what the fu—”

Then, a thought struck him. Forget casting spells, he needed his hands to play guitar! Oh, why had he given up music to become a mage? What the hell was he even doing in this situation? He suddenly made another bid for freedom, pushing with whatever remained at the end of his first savaged arm – but it only served to draw out a scream from the pain and the vague perception of something dragging where his hand was _supposed_ to be but there was no longer a connection for it to respond to. His absurd thoughts disappeared in a flash of white hot agony.

“Wh-Wha… F-Fffff… _uck… Wh…Whh…”_

As more of his blood flowed from the wounds it took on a verdant sheen, a detail completely lost on Parv as his head lolled back as he gave up fighting and waited for his brain to shut down – a body could only take so much of this trauma, right? Respawn would have to kick in sometime, right? Somehow through the haze he noticed the strands of a broken cobweb in the corner above.

Prey came and went, and there would always be a more powerful predator waiting.

Lalnable pulled back from lapping at his victim’s blood-soaked face, licking the blood and bile from his own lips with a contented smile. Finally it seemed as though his opponent was subdued for good and rapidly losing that disgusting, sour blood of his from the ravaged ends where his hands hung uselessly. The cannibal paused curiously, though, dipping his fingers into one of those deep traumatic injuries to inspect the oddly inhuman colour that now covered his digits, and he gave the fluid a tiny taste, but spat it out quickly, finding it far too acidic to stomach. What a pity.

"A talker to the end, eh," he said with amusement, knowing Parvis would hardly be able to break from his babbling to answer. "We must take care of that…"

Thank god for deep pockets— rooting around in his coat, Lalnable produced a simple clamp, and, feeling fairly confident in his victory, released his grip upon Parv’s arm to pinch his nose shut, simply waiting for the other man to run out of air. Once the blood mage had no choice but to open his mouth wide and take in a gasp, Lalnable forced the instrument inside and shut the clamp around the end of Parv’s tongue, dragging it out of its hiding place. Wearing a wicked grin, the blonde man eagerly put his scalpel to the wriggling muscle and sliced straight through it in a shower of green-tinted blood, holding his prize up to his victim’s gaze to let him take in the sight for himself as he faded into death.

Satisfied, Lalnable returned the clamp, with tongue, into his pocket and sat, watching and waiting as the darker man beneath him twitched and wheezed in his death throes. There would be no feast, unfortunately, considering how toxic the blood mage tasted. Still, the cannibal never felt truly vindicated without at least cracking open a ribcage and observing a stilled heart with his own eyes, and so he set to work even as Parvis still drew shaky breaths, stabbing his scalpel down into the smaller man’s sternum and cutting open the flesh around the bone to grant access to his ribs through his sickly acidic gore. With an ear-splitting  _crack_  Lalnable pried open the bone cage keeping the blood mage’s heart safe, and cut open the pericardial sac…only—

Only, the heart was fairly green. And thorny. What on earth…

As a man of science, the proper thing to do was to give the quivering muscle a testing slice with his blade.

Parvis _was not_ _dying._

He couldn’t move, limbs unresponsive to his brain’s screaming, but he could still _feel_ everything. He gagged and tried to voice a protest when Lalnable made to remove his tongue, desperately dragging air in to fill his lungs to scream but there was no strength to be had there, merely a withered moan. He could only choke as the blood from the severed lump flowed down into his throat. Tears were welling in his eyes. They oozed out down the sides of his face in streaks of ｇｒｅｅｎ. 

He emitted another weak noise as Lalnable stabbed into his chest. He flinched at the sound of his ribs breaking, a near-silent wheeze coming from somewhere. Yet, all of his internal screaming served to wake something in the back of his mind.

The actual spider nesting within him. The more powerful predator.

A glittering verdant mist began to seep from the ends of his arms and it drifted, low, out of the opening in his chest, flowing like so much dry ice but with an even greater sting than handling that substance could give. It flickered a bright green within the cut made to his heart. There was red blood flowing out of it, as well, and the two colors danced together without completely merging as they coated the outside of the organ and trickled out into Parv’s chest cavity.

The mist gathered off to the side and floated upward, traces of red swirling across it to be repeatedly swallowed then regurgitated by larger clots of green.  A voice came out of it, deep and utterly _dead_ -sounding. _“Oh idiot bloodling. What have you gotten yourself into now,”_  it seemed to complain. Then, if disembodied voices could smile, this one did.

_“_ _Oh. You have made a new friend. He appears to be  d e l i g h t f u l_ _.”_

The glittering cloud of mingled green and red drifted closer as if to get a better look at Lalnable although it had no eyes and as yet no mouth.

_“I must thank you for silencing his tongue. He is quite annoying to listen to. Yet he is necessary. Will you be finished playing with him soon?”_

A misty tendril reached out from the cloud and seemed to nibble at a bit of flesh on Parv’s savaged wrist.

As the worrisome green mist flowed out from the stump ends of the blood mage’s arms, Lalnable could only stay kneeling over the body, dumbfounded by this new display of magic— demonic? Likely. There was an unearthly, unsettling feel crawling over him now, as if the very nature of this mist was unholy, as if it wanted to see everything in its path suffering and twisted beyond recognition.

The cannibal feared magic for a variety of reasons, seeing it as a wide world of interactions and beings he would never understand, an entire domain of nature that could never be dissected or broken down into its component parts by a scientific mind. It wasn’t often that he felt genuine fear, but tendrils of it were teasing at his mind while he struggled to understand exactly what he was seeing.

Parvis was supposed to be a game, a  _meal_ , not… _this_. Whatever  _this_ was. Lalnable’s eyes widened despite himself as the creature seemed to inspect him, and he fought hard to subdue his desire to scramble away and bare his teeth from a safe distance. 

Show no weakness.

"You’re welcome," the blonde man said with far more confidence than he was feeling, his gaze roving around the shape’s borders and settling on where he assumed its eyes would be. His muscles tensed, making to stand and leave before anything horrible could befall him. "I— I don’t find him very palatable, you’re free to take him. I insist."

Parvis emitted another distressed noise and almost seemed to try to point toward the stairs with the arm not being pecked at by the mist. If only he could shape words, the wet gurgle that came from him might have been meant to be _“Run.”_  Trying to warn Lalnable? _Bless him._

_“You insist? As if you had a fucking say about him to begin with. You merely broke through a few meager bonds.”_

Shards of what appeared to be glass formed from all of the glittering motes as the mist expanded, spreading to block part of the room while leaving the way back up the altar stairs to the bloody basin clear. During the ruckus the altar had been refilling and the glass jittered around in the cloud, enlivened by the blood network’s progress.

Lalnable flinched at the demon’s reply, his eyes flicking over to Parvis’ weak motions but not making a move. He hardly knew where to look next; so much movement of sharp edges all around him, it was overwhelming.

_“I must admit you have an appealing determination. Such a lovely mess you have made, so quickly, so violently. And you wish to consume so much blood. Yet the taste of this one deters you? Surely one must savor ALL victories no matter the bitter aftertaste…”_

Dozens of sharp claws burst from the mist in a scattered array, surrounding Lalnable and hooking into his clothes, his hair, his skin and _slicing cutting tearing,_ but mainly keeping him in place for the moment.  The cloud then reached into Parv’s open chest and cut a small thorny tendril off the side of the heart. Malformed fingers grasped Lalnable’s lips, splitting the more tender skin there as it forced his mouth open to drop the tendril inside. The claws then clamped down, sealing his mouth so he could neither spit out the thorny tendril nor speak, his only choice to chew and swallow – lest the tendril scrape its way down his throat on its own.

_“You might have potential, hungry one. EAT.”_

With the demonic fingers forcing his mouth open like a vet prying apart the jaws of a terrified dog, glass claws attacking him superficially from every angle, Lalnable did little to resist the treatment. The cannibal chewed the tendril that had been placed into his mouth very thoroughly, wincing at the acrid taste, but not daring to spit it out in front of this most sadistic guest.

The entity waited for a moment, shards turning within its form in a way that almost suggested glee. When it was certain that he was going to keep it down, it released him, giving him a little shove toward the altar steps.

_“Go ahead and wash that down. There is plenty more blood for you to consume.”_

There was a hint of a bruised purple coloring in the depths of the basin this time. There would also be a faint flavor of Parv’s blood, should Lalnable heed the suggestion to drink.

"Y-yes…of course," the blonde man replied unsurely at the suggestion (command?) to drink from the altar basin once more. Nearly every part of his mind was screaming to run away and never look back, and yet…and yet that last little part of him wanted to appease the demon, to gain its favour. It seemed to look upon him fondly enough, from what he could tell. Perhaps this could be advantageous?

Ignoring his gut instinct, Lalnable rose from his crouched position and slowly, reverently, made his way back up the steps. He paused at the lip of the basin, staring down at his reflection cast over the refilled pool of blood, and pursed his lips at the mild discolouration of the thick fluid. Dipping a finger in, he tested it upon his tongue; there was a distinct, foul aftertaste of Parvis, but he could get over it, he supposed, if he drank quickly enough. His eyes trained upward to observe the ‘face’ of the demon once more, and seeing nothing but mist and glass and horrific grinding motions, he knew what he had to do.

Lalnable lowered his head into the basin without a second thought and broke the still crimson surface with his lips, beginning to suck up large mouthfuls as fast as he could. Not lingering to savour the taste as he normally did, in case the bile rose in his throat and forced him to stop, he greedily drank as if his life depended on it…and perhaps it did. He could feel his stomach filling fast as he chugged but dared not stop until he reached the bottom, and before long his middle felt weighed down and uncomfortably swollen with this liquid meal. The cannibal gave a few final laps at the sides of the emptied basin with his tongue to finish it off before the blood could begin refilling it, then straightened himself back up, wincing at the ache in his belly.

"Did that suit you," he asked in a neutral tone, fighting with a few stubborn hiccups and praying the answer would be  _yes_.

Alas, Lalnable, the answer is _not_ yes. _“When I said there was plenty more I did not mean for you to take fucking ALL of it. Impressive, and yet, such greed. You forget what the bloodling said earlier.”_

A different type of pressure pushed down upon Lalnable, much like before when Parvis had cast the Interdiction Ritual, again pinning him against the altar so he faced the basin. This time, however, there was no breaking free of the spell, for this was the force of the creature’s superior will.

That tone emanating from the chaos demon, that was not a tone of delighted approval. Lalnable opened his bloodstained mouth to argue his case when he suddenly found he  _couldn’t_ , once again finding his body forced against the lip of the altar’s basin and held in place like a rag doll once more. There was no give here, however, not like before when he could break free of Parvis’ mortal will. This was…absolute. Not one muscle could twitch in response.

 When it next spoke, the voice was a disturbing combination of its own and of Parv’s flippant blather.

_“If you partake of my altar you must also GIVE TO IT.”_

A shadow appeared behind the mist that was the eldritch entity of Kerosene, one arm raised, and the cloud of shards parted to allow Parvis to pass unharmed, his eyes glowing green, a crazed grin on his face, his chest still gaping open and his hands reattached with a mix of verdant flesh and jutting shards. In his raised hand was one of his own ribs, a tight cluster of mist darting around the end. The mist then rejoined the larger cloud, revealing the end of the bone to be sharpened to a point. Parv grabbed Lalnable’s arms in turn, laying them across the top of the basin with particular care. He used the rib to slice the cannibal’s forearms open from wrist to elbow joint, peeling the skin aside to allow his blood to flow freely into the altar – and perhaps down its side and onto the floor, and onto himself as well. So long as most of it made it into the basin, right?

Parv then positioned himself on the opposite side of the altar to hold Lalnable’s arms in place for a good solid minute. His heart could be seen beating away, red blood and glittering green ooze spilling with every pulse from the incision Lalnable had made in it. He opened his mouth once or twice as if trying to comment, but Kerosene had not seen fit to replace his tongue. Parv didn’t seem bothered by this, and eerily continued to appear to talk like a ventriloquist dummy without an owner.

_Bloody Parvis._ Seeing the smaller man reanimated like a puppet with the stuffing ripped out was certainly  _not_  what the cannibal had been expecting today, and as the blood mage drew near, he could feel a rush of adrenaline, _real_  fear, start to cloud his mind. Lalnable grit his teeth and had no choice but to howl in pain as each of his forearms was peeled open and his blood began rushing into the basin like a tap on full blast, plenty of it splattering the two men in the meantime. He very quickly began feeling light-headed, every deafening pulse of his heart pushing more and more blood out as payment for what he had taken so freely, but there was little he could do besides watch his life drain from his arms, and glance up at Parvis’ unnaturally beating heart in a disembodied kind of wonder.

  _“I will remember this encounter, hungry one. I seek to acquire new followers of chaos and when the entire fucking world is MINE there will be no place for weak bleeding hearts like this fool and my other puppet. I prefer a much stronger servant to dwell within. Not that I can guarantee that it will be YOU, yet as I said, there is potential...”_

Parv released Lalnable’s arms and shoved him away from the basin, leaping over it to pin the larger man to the ground with far more strength than he should have had. He yanked Lalnable’s coat away from his shoulders and with his rib bone dagger he slashed his shirt open. He ran his hands over the broader man’s chest, leaving a trickle of green ooze from his not-quite sealed wrist wounds. He leaned over to stare at Lalnable with an enraptured smile. The reversal of their positions was quite lost on him given that there might not have been much of Parvis left in control of himself.

To Lalnable it seemed not soon enough that he had paid his dues  and was free of the demon-puppet’s grasp, but he had only a split-second of this before being flattened backward. Normally throwing off a smaller man would have been possible, maybe even easy, but weak as he had grown, and with the misty creature’s unholy strength and will pressing down upon him, he had no chance to fight back. The pain in his gored forearms was at the back of his flooded mind while having his chest bared and helplessly watching not-quite-Parvis take a gleeful moment to observe the human canvas he would be working with.

_“I think you are quite done now. As fucking PATHETIC as this pet is, I have need of him as he was before you decided to investigate his internals. He is my leverage. He is still useful. Perhaps you may kill him utterly another day.”_

The blood mage shifted aside to press one hand against Lalnable’s full gut, touching off a fiery sensation within as the blood the cannibal had drank responded to Kerosene’s call.

A pained gurgle escaped the blonde man at the burn from within, a feeling like the blood in his full stomach being brought to a heated boil making his guts crawl and writhe within his own body. His red eyes began to water and he threw his head back in agony, arching his back as much as he could, but there would be no relief.

Parv moved away for a moment, then came back with a handful of sharpened, broken ribs. His heart began to beat faster, louder, as if to make a permanent impression on the other man. He trailed the edge of one rib down the larger man’s chest, leaving a thin red line. He then adjusted his hold on the rib and drove it straight into Lalnable’s abdomen.  He followed it up with five more of the sharpened bones to various places in the cannibal’s torso – _oh, let us relieve the pressure on that full stomach, shall we?_ \-- saving one to use to slice open the cannibal’s chest much as he had done to Parvis.

Lalnable could hear the chaotic beating of Parvis’ inhuman heart drowning out all else while some of the scalding blood in his stomach rose up into his esophagus, and though he wanted to scream in pain at the rapid succession of stab wounds followed by the slicing of his chest, all he could emit in his dying moments were hoarse whimpers, a bit of his own blood mixed with what he had ingested bubbling from the corner of his mouth.

Now the blood mage had a mild sneer on his face as he pushed and dug around to expose the other man’s ribcage, soaking himself to the elbows in the cannibal’s blood and gore. He wasn’t after Lalnable’s heart, although the eldritch entity controlling him was more than content to _observe a stilled heart with its puppet’s own eyes._   Yet before the cannibal could expire, the glittering cloud reached a tendril into Lalnable’s coat pocket and retrieved Parv’s tongue. It held the still-bleeding organ up in front of Lalnable’s face.

_“Keep in mind that words are very powerful, even those of an idiot.”_

In the end, Lalnable could feel  _something_ , echoes of pain from the blood mage digging around in his gored torso, but the world had grown so small, so very blurry. With a final rattle his muscles ceased responding and the light left his eyes, though with Parvis working away his body moved still. Only the last frantic signals in his brain were left now, keeping him trapped in this dying vessel, and those demonic words chiding him signaled what he thought would be his final curtain call.

If only that had been the case.

~*~

 Parv’s questing was in order to expose Lalnable’s ribcage, although as he neared the end of the task his eyes returned to normal and his face contorted into a look of revulsion. Kerosene was still commanding his hands, however, so he had to continue. When the way was clear enough for the creature, Parv stood and stepped out of the way as it swooped in with several sharp-edged tendrils and sliced the entire set of bones out, including the spine.

Seconds later the respawn kicked in and stole what was left of Lalnable away. Parv dropped to the bloodied floor like a marionette that’d had its strings cut. Green ooze dribbled out of his slack mouth, mixing with the thick red liquid all around. Kerosene hovered in the air over him as if considering what to do with him next.  It made the guitarist’s body roll over so it could look Parvis in the eye, relatively speaking.

Parv gurgled and almost tried to move on his own, the gaping hole in his chest leaking red blood, green ichor, dark voidstuff, and little black shapes that looked like musical notes.

_“You are a beautiful mess, my dear little bloodling.”_  Kerosene held out a tendril to caress Parvis along the side of his face and his open torso. The entity set Lalnable’s ribcage down beside him. _“You do not get to die now, however. I will not let that infernal resurrection system put you back together just yet. I have need of you just as you are.”_

It held up the tongue it had retrieved then shoved it into his mouth to reattach it while another set of tendrils worked to reshape Lalnable’s ribs to fit the blood mage’s smaller frame.

_“These bones are now yours. Call it a living trophy. …Much like Strife regards the lump of useless emotion he took from you.”_

Kerosene repaired the incision in ~~its~~ Parv’s heart before violently yanking out what was left of his own ribcage. It jammed the new one into his chest, fusing it into place with magic. It then filled in the severed muscle and tissue with more of itself as it had done with his wrists, then sewed his skin back together with glowing green thread.

_“Just as you are. My mess to claim. Strife’s mess to clean . How fucking careless you have been with the ‘gift’ he lovingly gave you. Sleep now, bloodling, and dream of the things that keep you awake._ "

Parv couldn’t even bring himself to whimper. He would have given anything just then to be able to cry real tears instead of whatever polluted substance was flowing down the sides of his face.


	2. Miles To Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only the last frantic signals in his brain were left now, keeping him trapped in this dying vessel, and those demonic words chiding him signaled what he thought would be his final curtain call.  
> If only that had been the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A/N: This was entirely written by fractalanatomy as a follow up to the main thread. Posted with permission. ]

**Miles To Go**

_“Keep in mind that words are very powerful, even those of an idiot.”_

The final warning of the demon seemed to go beyond mere audible sound as Lalnable faded to black, piercing his very consciousness while he fell, exhausted, into death’s frigid embrace. With his blood drained and body ripped open like he had done so many times to so many different people, perhaps it was a fitting end to the cannibal’s reign of terror. Perhaps now he could rest peacefully, no longer tormented by the demons in his head.

At least, that was what he had expected to happen while succumbing to the darkness. 

A heart stilled signals the onset of death, but it’s the brain, you see, the stopping of frantic neuro-electrical impulses in that most important of organs, that lets us truly shuffle off this mortal coil. So Lalnable’s heart did lay silent in his open chest for a few moments before his consciousness could evaporate entirely, letting the reanimated blood mage root through his exposed viscera, and once the last live neuron fired it’s final impulse, its death note…

Something malfunctioned.

There was no tunnel ending in light, no bathing in the warm glow of the afterlife. There was only a flickering, chaotic and coming faster by the second, until, even disembodied, the cannibal was overwhelmed by pain and incomprehensible sensations of each and every part of his expanded consciousness being crammed back into a physical body much too small to contain him. Lines of code flashed and expanded like the gaping maws of a hellbeast, but instead of devouring him, they passed through and became  _one_ with him.

He  _was_  the malfunction. 

The unfathomable higher dimensions spat Lalnable out into regular spacetime, right back where he had started: his old glass containment cell at Yoglabs. He felt the bed beneath him and gripped tightly at the clean sheets, fearing this was all some strange drug-induced hallucination…but the residual ache in his chest and stomach, along with the scars from where Parvis had pierced his flesh, were all too real.

So, then. There really  _was_  no escape from this life, no peaceful rest for a restless monster. He was a revenant, a vengeful spirit unable to be calmed nor cleansed. He realized this and laughed until his sides hurt, until the tears flowed down his reddened cheeks and his voice grew hoarse. 

Laughing was all he could do, really.


End file.
